


Click

by Gallifreyalive



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Im so fucking sorry why did i do this, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifreyalive/pseuds/Gallifreyalive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today was the day Moran would destroy Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Click

**Author's Note:**

> A small piece i did because I am incredibly messed up. If you don't like character death, please don't read on.

Sebastian sighed. He knew it was time, he was sure of it. He remembered so clearly the words that had come to him through the earpiece, the last words he ever heard Jim say. No, it wasn't how he'd imagined it, not at all, but he knew it had to be done. Just as that amazing man, that brilliant criminal had always told him...

Today was the day Moran would destroy Sherlock Holmes.

~~~

"Oh, and Moran, if this is goodbye, know this."

"Yes? Jim?"

"There's a file on my computer and, if ever, somehow, sherlock survives, and I don't..."

"Jim, that's not going to ha-"

"Hear me out. If that is ever the case, and he appears even remotely happy, or close to being, or dying okay, I need you to do something-for me."

"I- Yes, for you... Anything."

"Open the file and click send."

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut. He'd worked for, and with Jim for all this time - for most of his fucking life, and this was what he got? It was so unfair, but he knew that it was as close as he'd ever get to a proper goodbye. 

"Okay, Jim."

"And, well, I don't intend to die but... Thank You, Sebastian"

The first time he had ever called him Sebastian, or even come close to thanking him. 

"You are welc-"

His mouth closed as the line went dead. 

"Alright, Jim, this one's for you" he muttered as he set his sights on John Watson, ready to fire a bullet that wouldn't leave the gun for 2 and a half years.

~~~

 As Sebastian clicked open the file- hidden behind layers of code, but to his eyes clearly visible- he remembered Jim. Goddamn had he been perfect- so clever, and sleek and... and he'd never got the chance, to tell him... The thought left his mind as the file finally loaded. There were two items, one that looked like a computer virus, and a Word Document. The Doc was titled "Sebastian Moran- Open First," and the assassin easily complied.

_Moran,_

_I was always one for words, to be completely honest. I often am- honest, that is. I am smart, quite smart as well, and so I just well, to be honest, I just felt like I shouldn't be forgotton, I should never be forgotten. And you are the one person who wouldn't forget me, so I need you to do me something. I want you to tear the soul out of John Hamish Watson. And I want to burn it out of Sherlock._

_Thanks ;)_

Moran sighed, and opened the second file. He had been right, it was a virus. 

Sebastian Moran had an intimate knowledge of computer viruses. He knew how they woked, every quiver of those lines of code could be read by well-trained eyes, and Morans were the best. He mapped out the path of the virus mentally, not prepared for what he saw. If he sent this to just the right people, he could infect every computer in Britan in, well, in minutes. He eyes over the contacts list, keying them in well well-practiced accuracy. then he pressed that button, that powerful powerful button. He clicked send. It took a few seconds, but, once he was sure it had been delivered, the man allowed a smile to climb onto his face. He didn't have long to celebrate though.

Sebastian had a party to crash.

~~~

 The tarmac was warm for the air tempurature, as were the tears threatening to drip down John Watson's face. His wife stood close to him, but now that _he_  was gone, properly gone, even she could not console him. 

Moran smiled. Now did John know how it feels? Could he? But it wasn't enough, and as he straightened his sunglasses, he knew what he had to do. Jim always was the cleverest. Murder wouldn't be enough, never enough. A bullet was far too clean. 

As Moriarty's long dead voice cut through the day, Sebastian bided his time. The screens were changing now, he could see that face even from his car. Patient zero is not immune. The events seemed to happen in slow motion. Over the next ten minutes a phone call was made, a plane turned around and landed, and three lives changed. 

Moran saw John see the virus. He saw the quiver, the shock. He saw John pull away from Mary- who gave him his space, ran to an officer to ask questions, Moran saw John's breathing quickening. There was good reason for John to have disbelief at Moriarty's apparent life. But his fears were quenched as he saw another figure he'd once thought to be dead walk across the black ground. Sherlock almost ran towards John. The doctor's eyes began to ask the question his mouth never would. John  wanted to say so much, but he was cursed. Had been since he saw Mike Stamford on the bench that day.

There was another figure walking towards the three.

~~~

It felt good to stab Sherlock Holmes. The energy rushed through Moran's veins as the dull (he'd made sure it was dull) silver blade stabbed through the coat and shirt, tearing the skin, the muscle. A smile almost appeared on his face as the knife hit home, as Sherlock fell to the ground. Not dead- not yet. 

Sherlock's pain wasn't the greatest though. John Watson died at that moment too.

Time slowed as his friend fell to the ground. John was screaming, yelling pounding- on what he didn't know; but it couldn't be. Sherlock couldn't die. He couldn't be left again. John's eyes hollowed as Sherlock coughed blood. He fell to the ground as Sebastians face now crept into a full smile. He pulled a gun from his waistband.

Then Sebastian Moran shot John Watson in the heart. 

~~~  
  


John's death was instantanious, unlike Sherlock's. The sociopath lay in a growing puddle of his own blood as Moran hurried away and half of Scotland Yard gathered around.

They could have saved him, they truly could've, as long as he stayed still and did not agitate the wound currently facing upwards.

But the events of the past 30 seconds left Sherlock a man who didn't want saving. The sight of his best friend in the world's face- full of so much emotion, so much of that thing that Sherlock had always lacked - and then full of none, was too much for the man to handle.

Sherlock Holmes rolled over, and Moriary's last wish in the world was fulfilled.

Sherlock Holmes died broken.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, kind and constructive criticism is always welcome.


End file.
